In contemporary New York City, Bill is a middle-aged, middle-class lawyer who decides to skip out on work one day. The discovery of his daughter's self-harm habit complicated his family life, thrusting him into a period of doubt and worry, despite the daughter's current bout of health. Bill visits a photojournalism exhibit at an art museum before being seized by a general sentiment of world wariness. Woozy, he boards the bus. On the bus, he overhears a doctor on the phone. The doctor is an eating disorder habit. He speaks about one of his patients, a boy who disgusted him, both from the femininity of having an eating disorder and the boy's disgusting eating habits. Bill is shocked by the doctor's lack of sympathy for the boy, but he keeps listening, riveted. Despite his disgust, the doctor learns that the boy is a painter and commissions him to paint him a picture of food, on the condition that the boy will eat the food in the painting. This strategy succeeds, if only for the short-term: the boy paints a portrait of a steak and will be bringing it to the doctor the following week. After hearing that conversation, Bill writes to the doctor on the bus, asking him about the ethicality of having revealed such a personal story about the boy on the bus. Bill demands answers about the doctor's conscience, for he just can't stop thinking about that bus ride conversation.